


The Secret of Management

by Sab



Category: Arrested Development, NewsRadio
Genre: (Uploaded by Punk), Community: sitcomathon, Crossover, F/M, Illlllluuuusions, Questionable Business Decisions, The Great Throwdini, The Secret of the Aztec Tomb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-03
Updated: 2006-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sab/pseuds/Sab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now the story of a wealthy family who lost everything, got most of it back via questionable means, and were advised to liquidate as quickly as possible. (Uploaded by Punk, from iamsab.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret of Management

**Author's Note:**

  * For [autumn_grunge](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=autumn_grunge).



> For autumn_grunge, as part of the sitcomathon 2006. These were two separate requests that decided to be in the same story. Prompt: Aztec Tomb.
> 
> Big giant ups to all the sitcomathon participants, and kyrafic the sublime.

Now the story of a wealthy family who lost everything, got most of it back via questionable means, and were advised to liquidate as quickly as possible.

George Sr. had sent his two eldest sons to New York to meet with the billionaire the Bluths hoped would buy their company, sight unseen. Jimmy James was the president and CEO of Jimmy James, Incorporated, a company best known for a publicity stunt it performed in the early '90s where the firm's corporate jet flew over midtown dropping thousands of $100 bills as part of a campaign for a ballot measure on tax breaks for major corporations.

Unfortunately, the bills were bundled and locked in stainless steel briefcases, and the stunt ended up costing the city $2.3 million in building and street damages. Four people were killed.

So far, Jimmy James Inc. was the only holding company to make a bid on the Bluth Company. Michael suspected it was because Mr. James's reputation for being high-risk was outplayed only by George Sr's. "Any press is good press," said George Sr. after the recent news story describing his flee to Bahrain and immediate capture by five of Michael Jackson's bodyguards, after he was found on the pop star's property sharing a tin of tuna with a resident cat. The guards were quoted as saying, "George Bluth gives Michael the creeps."

"I've heard so much about you," said Michael to Jimmy James. "It's an honor."

"Yeah," agreed Jimmy James. "Course it is. I'm huge. And this, this here's Dave, say hi to the boys, Dave --"

A little Canadian said, "hi, boys. Um, Mr. James -- ?"

Jimmy James waved his hand a couple times. "And this! This is Lisa, Lisa Miller, Lisa, this here's Michael and Gobb Bluth."

"It's Gob," said Gob.

"I've read a lot about your family," said Lisa Miller.

"Beth!" shouted Mr. James. A redhead dressed like a prostitute came in to the break room.

"Yeah, boss?" she said, snapping her gum.

"Remember our plan?" he asked her, winking.

" _Yeah, boss,_ " she winked back, twice, once for each word. Mr. James rubbed his hands together.

"This is Beth, everybody. Sit, sit, sit!" said Mr. James, encouraging everyone to sit. Six people stood around Jimmy James and three empty chairs for a while, and then Michael made the first move, and sat down, and Gob followed, and Beth sat next to Gob.

"You buying another company, boss?" the prostitute asked.

Jimmy James rubbed his hands together a couple times. "Yep, yep, and you get to watch," said Jimmy James. "Dave, you're gonna want to be taking notes."

"Hm?" the Canadian asked. He and Lisa Miller stood flanking the microwave, just a little too close to it and each other. "Notes?"

Jimmy James looked at him. "I buy like ten of these companies a day, Dave," Jimmy James said, like it should have been obvious. "How do you expect me to keep track of my industries if you're not taking notes?" He tossed Dave a stack of post-its. "You got a pen? I got a company that makes pens, but the truth is they're not very good pens."

Lisa Miller gave Dave a pen.

"So!" Jimmy James hollered, leaning in across the table, close to Michael's ear. "I'm prepared to make an offer of, well, let's just call it a zillion dollars, 'cause that's what it'll seem like to you, to buy up all your shares of the Bluth company, including all liabilities and debt."

Michael looked at Gob, who opened his mouth. Michael reached out and clapped his hand over it. "Please continue," he said to Mr. James.

Mr. James pushed up both his sleeves to about mid-forearm and nodded his head several times, looking overwhelmingly pleased with himself. "I'm willing to make you that offer, _provided_ you boys can tell me the secret of management."

Dave the Canadian put his post-it pad down and left the room.

"Mr. James --" said Lisa Miller.

"Hush, Lisa," said Mr. James. Beth hoisted herself up on to the counter and swung her legs and watched.

"The...secret of management?" Michael asked.

Gob kicked him in the ankle. "Is it...like a _magic word_?" he proposed, waggling his eyebrows at Jimmy James.

Jimmy James nodded a few times more. "Yeah, yup, it's like a magic word." Then he squinted. "You a crazy person, son?"

Michael thought about all the slides he'd prepared for his opaque projector, and the carefully bound copies of the Bluth Company's financial records all neatly stored in his briefcase. "I've...prepared some slides?" he said, and then, realizing that didn't inspire terrific confidence, added, "because we want to make sure you know we've got no secrets. We're an open book. Not hiding anything." There, that was confident.

Jimmy James stood up. "Yep," he said. "Okay. I'm gonna go use the can, and then I'll be going downtown to visit one of my film production companies for a while. We're making a musical!"

Michael figured he could change his plane ticket. "About that offer, sir, do you think we could get some sort of written --"

"A zillion dollars," Mr. James said, putting on his coat. "Lisa, write that down for the man, will you?"

"Mr. James --" Michael tried, but it was useless.

"Secret of management, son," Jimmy James said, and left.

It was then that Michael noticed Gob, standing beside him and waving his arms around wildly. "I can _do this_ , Michael," Gob stage-whispered. "Magic words are like, my best thing, you know, next to heavy machinery illusions."

Michael knew no such thing.

Beth snapped her gum. "You do magic?" she asked.

Gob squirted her with lighter fluid. She sniffed her arm.

"Lighter fluid!" she said. "Cooooool."

"Listen, Mr. Bluth," Lisa Miller said. Michael looked over at her. "I'm sorry about Mr. James. He gets like that. And somehow it works for him, so if you really do want him to buy your company, the best thing to do is usually to just play along."

Michael smiled. "Call me Michael," he said. "You don't happen to know the secret of management, do you?"

"Tn..emagajam!" shouted Gob victoriously.

Everybody looked at him, and he sat down again. "Tn...emanajam?"

Beth leaped down and took a seat next to him. "Oooh," she said, scribbling on a post-it. "Maaaaybe."

Michael looked from Beth to Gob and back again. "Tell you what," he said to his brother. "You and Beth here keep working on the magic word. I'm gonna go call Dad and then see if I can get Mr. James to come back and talk to us again."

Gob waved him off. "Shush," Gob said, and then had a thought, and looked up at Michael. "What do you mean, me and Beth?" Gob asked, thinking he knew exactly what Michael meant. And exactly why Mr. Jimmy James had provided this prostitute in the first place.

Lisa Miller was trying hard not to laugh, and Michael gathered up his things. "Just, try not to alienate anyone," he said.

"Hey," grumbled Gob. "Don't take it out on me because you couldn't think of the magic word in time." But he continued to be committed to what he was sure Michael was hinting at. "Just, leave me alone so I can 'try not to alienate' this lovely young lady right here. Wink." Gob didn't wink.

Lisa managed to fly out of the room before her laughter got her. Michael sighed.

"We can so totally get this," said Beth. "Let's see, we tried m-a-n-a..."

"I'll show you m-a-n," said Gob, and then beamed at Michael to make sure his brother noticed his ability to construct a double entendre.

Michael picked up his opaque projector and left the break room.

Lisa was sitting at her desk, and he went over and set his equipment down on the empty desk beside hers. "So, what's my next step?" he asked.

She considered the question. "Well, it usually depends how interested he is in your company to begin with. He has a pretty short attention span."

"Yeah, executive ADD," Michael said. "My dad's got it."

"I think your father's problems are a little more serious than ADD," Lisa said, looking for some papers. "I mean, corporate treason and breaking out of a maximum security prison --"

"Three times," put in Michael.

"I thought it was four," Lisa said.

Michael shrugged. "Could be four."

Now Lisa smiled, and Michael realized she was really very pretty. "Point is," she said. "If Mr. James is excited about the deal, he'll be back before the end of the day. If he's found something new to play with, you should probably not bother changing your flight."

"Yeah," sighed Michael. "So you don't think I should go down there and --"

"Not without the secret of management," Lisa said. "And that takes like sixteen hours, so if possible I recommend forgetting he ever said that and maybe you'll escape the torture."

"Hey, Lisa?" Dave, the Canadian, shouted from his office. "That was Mr. James on the phone. He says, tell the Bluths he's expecting to hear the secret of management before the end of the day. Um, sundown, I think he said."

"Too bad," said Lisa. Dave went back into his office.

Michael looked at her, and then back over at Dave's office. "Are you two...?"

Lisa stood up. "No, and I don't see how it's any of your business. And, no. I'm single. I happen to be...unattached."

"Oh," said Michael. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Lisa squinted at him.

"I mean, for you!" he corrected himself. "Sorry, for you. It must be...lonely. I'm sorry."

"Somehow, I survive," she said.

"But I'm glad you're single!" Michael continued. "I mean, not because I'm glad you're sad, that would be sadistic of me. And I'm not. A sadist, I mean."

It went on like that for a while.

"Do you want to have lunch?" Lisa asked.

"More than just about anything," Michael exhaled, and followed Lisa back into the break room.

Gob had Beth upside down on the table, where he was demonstrating sawing her in half using a Charleston Chew.

"Gob taught me the Aztec Tomb," Beth said, straightening her skirt. "Do you think Dave would give me a three thousand dollar advance?"

Lisa nodded. "Probably," she said. "Just tell him what it's for and he'll probably insist on it."

"Dave likes illusions?" Gob perked up.

"Dave's the Great Throwdini," Lisa sighed. Gob grabbed Michael's arm.

"The Great Throwdini!" Gob whispered. "Master of the throwing knife!"

"How'd you do on that magic word?" Michael asked. Gob and Beth were both sitting on the table, covered in post-its, presumably from having rolled around on a table covered with them.

Gob's face got terribly serious, and he stared at Michael. "I _have information_ ," he said, his eyes darting from Beth to Lisa like he believed they couldn't hear him.

"That's great," said Michael. "Why don't we just pop out and have a little Bluth Company meeting."

"I'm having yogurt," said Lisa.

Beth clapped her hands. "Me too!"

Michael pulled Gob out of the break room, and stopped him beside a desk covered with unicorns and vitamins. "Okay."

"Okay," agreed Gob. They stood there a little.

"You said you have information?"

Gob leaned in, so close his lips brushed Michael's ear. "I _sonsummated_ that deal," Gob whispered.

(He hadn't.)

"Okay, that's too close," Michael said, pushing Gob a couple inches back. "Now, what, now?"

"I did it. I did the redhead! We went _all the way._ "

(He hadn't even kissed her.)

Gob clapped his hands and did a little dance.

Michael moaned. "Why, Gob? Why...here? Right here, just, now?"

"Just now," hooted Gob. "They'll have to buy the company now. We accepted their _dowry_."

Michael didn't even bother to wonder how Gob knew a word like 'dowry,' much less whether that word did, in fact, appropriately apply to their current situation.

(It didn't.)

"Okay, first of all? This isn't ancient Babylonia. And second of all -- I was about to eat lunch at that table!"

Gob's face got terribly serious again. "But there was a sacrifice," he said, darkly.

Michael felt his stomach flop. "Oh, no, Gob, what did you do? You didn't sell Lindsay or anything, did you? Not that that would necessarily be -- no. What sacrifice?"

"The Aztec Tomb," Gob said. "The box, where I stick the swords through, and my beautiful assistant..."

Michael breathed a sigh of relief so loud that up in the radio booth, two broadcasters waved at him to keep it down. "Oh thank god," he said. "You didn't destroy us."

"If the new Alliance finds out about this I'll have done worse than destroy the family, Michael," Gob hissed. "I'll have destroyed _my career!_ "

Michael clapped him on the back. "Yeah. Sucks." And went into the break room.

He was just finishing his yogurt and having the nicest conversation with Lisa about the importance of lower-back support in ergonomic office chairs when Beth came back in the room with a wicked smile on her face.

"Mr. James is returning," she said, ominously. "He wants to know if you have your answer."

Michael looked at Lisa. "Secret of management?"

"Um, just shoot as many cliches as you can think of at him, you're bound to hit some of them right. Like, 'measure twice, cut once,' um, 'one man's junk is another man's treasure,' um, the one with the kitten...?"

Beth pulled a chair up close. "Listen, you guys," she said, looking around suspiciously. Gob was in the booth reading promos in his Hungry Man voice, and Michael and Lisa were the only ones in the room. "Mr. James is gonna make the deal."

"How do you know?" Lisa asked.

Dave stuck his head in. "Hey, Beth?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Some delivery guys are going to be by this afternoon delivering the Aztec Tomb, can you make sure you're around to sign for it?"

"Ten-four," said Beth, snapping her gum. Dave left.

"Nice work," said Lisa, impressed.

Beth leaned in close again. "I have it on good authority," she said. "That Mr. James is going to make you an offer you _can't_ refuse."

Michael shot Lisa a terrified look. "I don't like the sound of that," he said.

"Don't worry," Lisa said. Michael was unimpressed by her calm. Then Jimmy James came in.

"So I've decided not to buy your company," he said.

Michael was so stunned he didn't even think to go get his opaque projector.

"But Mr. James --" Beth said.

"Yeah, yeah, you did a great job. You ever thought about being a spy?"

"Well, actually..." Beth fluffed her hair.

Jimmy James turned to Michael. "You see, I was never really interested in the Bluth Company, I mean, let's be serious here, your company's a piece of crap."

Michael nodded. "I guess I can't argue with that."

"What I really wanted was for your brother Gob to come all the way out here so he could teach me the secret of the Aztec Tomb. And now that Beth went and got it for me, you see, I really have no more use for you."

Michael's life flashed before his eyes. "Gob made a huge mistake," Michael said.

"You got that right," Jimmy James agreed. "I knew I'd never get an Alliance-certified magician to come out and tell me the secret of his trick, but Beth here, little vixen, came up with the idea she could get him to let her be an assistant in the trick, and she'd figure it out that way."

"Turned out all I had to do was give him half a Pop-Tart and he just told me," Beth shrugged.

"Now, Mr. James, to be fair --" Lisa started.

"Whose side are you on?" Jimmy James asked, and Michael could swear he saw Lisa move her chair a couple centimeters away from him.

"What about the secret of management?" Michael asked.

Mr. James thought a while. "Okay, that's fair. You tell me the secret of management, I'll go ahead and buy your company. But you are aware there's no such amount as a zillion dollars, right?"

Michael nodded. "I am aware," he said.

Then Gob came in. "I got it!" he said. "I know the secret of management!"

"It's too late," Michael sighed. "Turns out all he wanted was the Aztec Tomb after all."

Gob spun his head and glared at Mr. James. "Pilferer!" he growled. "I will only tell the secret of management to another member of the Magician's Alliance!"

"Well, that doesn't help much," Michael said, just as Jimmy James was saying, "yeah, thanks, boys, see ya later," and starting to leave.

"Wait!" said Lisa. "The Great Throwdini! You could tell Dave, right?"

Gob stroked his chin in his favorite thinking pose. "The Knife-Thrower's Alliance _does_ have a pact of truth and brotherhood with the Magician's Alliance...yes. I'll allow it." He turned around and left to go find Dave.

"Lisa," said Mr. James. "Why are you trying to get me to buy this company?"

Lisa pulled out the file she'd been carrying around, the one containing a decade of news clippings and financial records on the Bluth Company. "They've got some valuable assets," she said. "I even got Michael here to confirm a few more, today."

Michael smacked himself in the face.

"Just make a low offer, launder the debts, and then sell the thing off for parts," Lisa said.

Mr. James slapped her on the arm, triumphantly. "Now _that's_ the secret of management," he said.

"Really?" Michael asked.

"No, of course not," said Mr. James.

Dave and Gob came in, Gob beaming. "Apparently it's all done with mirrors," Dave said.

Mr. James nodded. "That's the one!" he said. "Dave, call my accountants, tell them to draw up some papers. What's a good amount that's less than a zillion?"

Lisa touched his arm. "Leave that to the accountants," she said.

"That's probably a good idea," Michael found himself agreeing, even though he had to admit a zillion dollars sounded like an awfully sweet deal.

"And you'll throw in your brother," Mr. James said. "As, like, you know. What do you call it? A dowry."

"That's actually what it's called if you're getting married," Dave put in.

"Him?" Michael asked.

"Me?" Gob asked.

"Yeah," said Mr. James. "Hell, I haven't had a magician on my payroll since I hired that court jester that one time."

When Michael woke up two weeks later, he was in the hospital.

Dr. Wordsmith was standing over him. "I'm glad you made it back to us," he said. "Too bad I can't say the same for your brother."

Michael tried to sit up, but the pain in his head made it impossible. "Gob? What's wrong with Gob?"

"Michael?" Lucille's voice came warbling through the curtains. "Thank god you're okay."

"What happened to Gob?" Michael asked.

"Don't you remember?" Lucille asked. "You sold him to that nice man in New York, the one who bought the company and made us all millionaires again. Right before you took that girl reporter and went to Aruba?"

Michael rubbed his head. "Lisa? I went to Aruba with Lisa?"

"Yeah," said Lisa, who was sitting in a chair beside him. "You want to see the wedding pictures?"

::

Next time, on Arrested Development:

Gob makes the mayor of New York _disappear_ , only to be found later in a movie theater downtown, without any pants.


End file.
